Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
- William Butler Yeats, "No Second Troy" (~1916)
Maud Gonne MacBride
2 comments:
Now THAT is one BEEEEEYOOTIFUL woman!
A stately, poised, uncommonly elegant Celtic Valkyrie. WOW!
Why has that glorious ideal of feminine beauty been replaced by the slutty, slovenly tattoed hoydens, and ill-clad, ill-groomed, il-coiffed, shrieking, ever-scolding harpies that beset and besiege us today?
Aye-yi-yi!
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